


Count to Three

by Harleydoll



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bedside Vigils, Erik has Feelings, Erik has Issues, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Poor Charles, Post-Canon, Protective Erik, Psychic Violence, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-15
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-24 15:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harleydoll/pseuds/Harleydoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles is psychologically damaged after experiencing Shaw's death in his own mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

“Go ahead, Charles. Tell them I'm wrong.” Erik's eyes remain focused on the water as he waits for Charles to reply, but his challenge is met with silence. He glances in Charles' direction just in time to see his legs give way, and Erik is there catching him and holding him close. “Charles, are you alright?” Charles' eyes roll back into his head and he mumbles almost imperceptibly, “count to three...count to three...” His eyes snap back and stare unnervingly into Erik's. “You have to stop it, you have to make it stop, you have to....it...” he trails off again and a single tear runs down his cheek. “Hurts,” he says simply.

“The coin,” Erik realizes, then, “I'm so sorry Charles, I never meant for this to happen, I didn't know--” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Moira moving towards them and he screams, “GET BACK!”

Everyone, Moira included, seems to migrate about 5 steps back, afraid of what might happen next. Satisfied, Erik returns his attention to Charles. He says his name over and over in between mumbled apologies and pleas to say something, anything, to no avail.

“Charles,” he whispers, wishing that he would just say Erik's name in that smug British accent that manages to say everything in a mere two syllables, that voice that tells him everything is alright because he knows everything about Erik and accepts and loves him for it. But the only response he gets is, “count to three, count to three...” and he knows he's ruined everything.

 _Killing Shaw will not bring you peace, my friend._ Charles' words from the night before echo in his mind.

“No,” Erik says aloud, removing Shaw's helmet and tossing it aside, “it most certainly did not.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the mansion, Charles' condition worsens, and Erik is helpless and heartbroken. Buckets and buckets of angst, but I'm hoping I will be able to end this happily in the long run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a long time coming, but hopefully it's worth it! Thanks for being so patient with me ^_^

Erik tucks Charles into the bed with military precision, compulsively smoothing every last wrinkle in the duvet until Charles sighs and rolls over, turning his face into the pillows. He glances up in alarm, but Charles is still passed out thanks to the sedative Hank had dosed him with when he'd tried to claw the phantom coin out of his head. Erik shudders at the memory before returning his attention to the duvet, wishing that he could crawl in with the younger man and snuggle close like he used to. Instead he sits down in next to the bed, eyes fixed on Charles' sleeping form.

He has no idea how long he's been sitting there, nails digging angrily into the arms of the chair and shredding the soft leather as he watches the other man toss and turn in bed.

“You should get some sleep, Erik.” Raven is standing in the doorway, her natural blue form wrapped tightly in a fluffy white housecoat. She hasn't bothered to shift into anything else since they returned, and Erik can't help but silently commend her for it. “I'll stay with him until you come back.”

Erik ignores her as she walks over and places a hand on his arm. “Get some sleep,” she repeats. “And go eat something. You look like death.”

He stands and wrenches his arm from her grasp as he moves to Charles' side and smooths the covers once again.

“Stay if you like, but I'm not leaving him.” His voice cracks ever so slightly and he clears his throat, hoping she didn't notice.

“Don't you think you've done enough?”

He wheels on Raven and moves to hit her, but thinks better of it and pushes her away instead as he heads for the door. She's right, he thinks, he's done more than enough already.

~~~

It's still dark outside when Erik enters the kitchen, and the display on the microwave tells him it's 3:24 am. Moira is standing over the counter, her back to the door, pouring a cup of tea. She doesn't register Erik's presence until she turns around, nearly dropping the mug of tea in surprise.

“Erik,” she says, forcing a small smile. “I thought you were..I mean, are you alright?”

This is wrong, she shouldn't be here, she's just a worthless human and it's her fault, all of it. He's seething with hate as he latches onto the first bit of metal he can sense, a thin silver chain adorning her neck. He takes such pleasure in the way the tiny heart-shaped ornament digs into her larynx, cutting off all sound as she gasps feebly for air. The mug she's holding falls to the floor and shatters, spilling tea and ceramic shards everywhere.

“It's your fault,” he snarls. “You and your idiotic little government that insisted it would all be fine and we'd be taken care of, and your stupid fucking coast guard that had to find Shaw and bring Charles into the equation.” Her feet are barely touching the ground now as Erik brings her closer, choking out a bitter laugh as her nails scrabble against the necklace. “You should never have come, I could have killed him right there and none of this would have happened, you should have just let me die, why couldn't he let me die--” He stumbles, releasing his hold on Moira without thinking and she falls to the floor, coughing and struggling for breath in the puddle of now lukewarm earl grey on the floor.

Erik is leaning against the door frame for support, his mind reeling with thoughts of Charles and Shaw and _it's my fault, it's all my fault..._

Moira is on her feet now, watching him with fear in her eyes. “Get out,” he rasps at her, and she freezes, unsure of whether it's safe to pass him. “Oh for...” he moves away from the door and sits at the table in the center of the room. “Go, get changed, put on something warm and dry before you catch cold.” He bites back a sardonic laugh when he realizes what he's just said. _Run along dear, I just tried to kill you but God forbid you catch cold!_

She scurries out the door, still rubbing the thin red line now encircling her neck. It's going to leave a mark, but he's not going to think about that now. He focuses on the mess on the floor, putting all his energy into cleaning it up and ensuring that there is no trace of the events that just transpired. By the time he's finished, the floor is practically sparkling and the entire room smells strongly of lemons. He slumps back into a chair and doesn't even realize he's fallen asleep until he hears voices chattering softly from the door.

“Should we wake him?”

“You wake him!”

“Nah, man, I don't need the coffee that bad. 'Sides, he might throw me off a ledge again.”

Erik lifts his head off the table and rubs his eyes . “Someone say coffee?”

“Uh, yeah,” Alex pushes Sean ahead of him into the kitchen. “Sean here was just about to make a pot.”

Sean glares at his friend before edging along the counter to the coffee machine. “Want some?” he asks, producing three mugs from the cupboards.

Erik nods and sits back in the chair. The microwave tells him it's 11:44. He's overslept, an easy feat considering he hadn't meant to sleep in the first place. Sean presents him with a cup of black coffee and he takes a sip, savoring the way it scalds the back of his throat. The aroma is deep and heady; the kid might be a total space case, but he knows how to make a decent cup of coffee.

Sean and Alex grab their own mugs and make their retreat, tiptoeing around Erik like he's going to go off any second. And they're probably right. “Hey Irish,” Erik calls after them.

Sean pivots on his heel to face him. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for the coffee.”

Sean breaks out into a grin. “Yeah, yeah no problem!” he says, before turning back and chasing after Alex.

~~~

Erik is halfway up the stairs when he's nearly bowled over by the pain and sheer need flooding his mind.

 _Erik, Erik get it out, you need to fix this, make me whole again it's in my head get it outgetitoutNOW ERIK--_

He bursts through the bedroom door, chest heaving, just as Raven is pressing a cool cloth to Charles' forehead. He's practically convulsing under her touch, clutching hopelessly at the duvet and Erik is reminded briefly of Moira making those same scrabbling motions only hours ago. He pushes the memory away and moves to Charles' side, hands automatically replacing Raven's despite her protests as he sits gingerly on the edge of the bed.

Charles' left hand flies up to where Erik's is resting on his forehead, eyes suddenly focused and determined.

“Feel it there?” he whispers shakily. “It's in my head, it's yours just count to three and move the coin, get it out, please just make it stop...”

Erik just stares, unsure of how to respond. There's no coin, not really, it's just a ghost of the one he used to kill Shaw only a few days ago. He can't just reach in a pull it out like a real piece of metal because it's not, his best bet would be for a telepath to...wait.

“Charles,” he moves his hands down to rest on his cheeks. “Listen to me very carefully. I can move the coin for you, but you have to let me in.”

Charles shakes his head furiously. “I can't...I can't get out.”

“I know that,” Erik's voice is low and soothing. “All you have to do is bring me in, and I'll do the rest.”

Charles closes his eyes and Erik follows suit, focusing all his energy on the thin silver thread that's weaving it's way into his mind.

“That's it Charles, just a bit further, all you have to do is let me in.” It shimmers in and out of view before disappearing completely when he reaches out to touch it. He opens his eyes to find Charles passed out and feverish from the effort, and Raven is there waiting with a fresh cloth and a bowl of water. Erik sighs, defeated, and moves out of her way.

“It was worth a shot,” she says, glancing up at him. “It might have worked if you were a telepath as well.”

Erik thinks for a moment before responding. “You're saying if there was another telepath on the outside they could get me into Charles' mind?”

“I guess, I mean I don't really know the mechanics of it but I'm sure it would--”

Erik is off like a shot, racing to the garage as he reaches out to the closest vehicle with his power, a black '62 Rolls Royce. The engine roars to life and he can't help but smirk. He might not be able to get into Charles' mind, but being able to hot-wire a very expensive car from the other end of the mansion has got to count for something. And speaking of getting into people's minds...

He pivots without slowing his pace and runs back to his own room. Shaw's helmet is still sitting on the desk, right where he left it. He reaches for it with apprehension, knowing full well the trouble it caused the last time it was used, but also knowing that it's a necessary evil. Erik snatches it up before he can change his mind and sprints back the way he came.

“Where do you think you're going with that?” Raven is standing at the front door, arms crossed.

He glares at her. “Did you leave him alone?”

“Obviously not, Hank's there.”

“Good.” he open the door with a flick of his wrist and brushes past her to the Rolls Royce awaiting him.

“Erik!”

“What?”

Raven skips down the steps and gives him a quick hug, which he awkwardly returns. “Just don't do anything stupid, alright?”

He slides behind the wheel and slams the door, tossing the helmet in the passenger's seat beside him. “Oh, it's far too late for that now.”

~~~

Raven stands motionless on the pavement for a few minutes after he drives off. He better not get a scratch on that car, or Charles will kill him when he wakes up.

“If he wakes up,” she says aloud.

“Raven?” She turns to find Alex standing on the steps behind her. “Is everything alright?”

“No, everything is not alright, moron,” she retorts angrily. “My brother is bouncing between being comatose and a raving psychotic, and the guy that did it to him just up and left, which you'd think would make things easier but in reality it just makes everything worse.” She's shaking now, trying not to cry in front of him, trying not to cry at all because there's no time for that. Instead she takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and walks back up the steps, forcing one foot in front of the other until she is safely back in the mansion. Alex follows her inside and attempts to put an arm around her, but she shrugs it off.

“I have to go take care of my brother,” Raven says, trying to sound stronger than she feels.

“Look, if there's anything I can do to help, just name it,” Alex says. “You don't have to do this alone.”

She pauses at the bottom of the stairs but doesn't turn around, hands balled into fists at her sides. Encouraged, Alex continues, “I know it's hard, believe me. I was really close to my brother, too.”

“What happened to him?”

“There was a plane crash. When we were little. His body was never recovered.”

Raven's shoulders sag. “Jesus, Alex.”

“I'm not looking for sympathy. I just wanted you to know you're not alone.” He goes to leave, but stops as Raven's hand closes around his wrist.

“Would you...would you come upstairs with me? Keep Charles and I company?” Raven stumbles over the words, unsure of herself. To her relief, Alex smiles amicably and slips his hand into hers with a slight nod. With renewed strength Raven returns his smile with a tentative one of her own and leads the way up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear, Alex and Raven's relationship is completely platonic, and no, it's not going to evolve into anything more. She just really needs someone right now and, having experienced the loss of his own brother, Alex seemed the logical choice.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Charles is slightly lucid, Sean drinks all the coffee, and Erik makes a difficult decision.

Sean listens to the entire exchange from the soft leather sofa in the common room, barely 20 feet away from where Alex and Raven are standing. The television is showing a news report on what's now being called the “Cuban Missile Crisis”, and he flips the channel with a scowl, only to find that it's being recounted on every available channel. _Once was more than enough, thanks._ He sighs and turns the television off before downing his fourth coffee in less than two hours, silently wishing it was something stronger. 

“...don't have to do this alone.” Sean perks up at the sound of Alex's voice, and is just about to join his friend in the foyer when a second voice gives him pause. 

“I have to go take care of my brother.” He recognizes Raven immediately, her voice shaking but determined. Sean decides to stay where he is, slumping further into the couch to ensure that he's not seen. The conversation is brief, and ends with both of them going up the stairs, presumably to watch over the Professor. 

Once their footsteps die out, Sean exhales loudly, unaware that he had been holding his breath. Plane crash? Alex never mentioned any plane crash to him, or a brother for that matter. Then again, Alex never mentioned much of anything about himself or his past. He and Sean had an unspoken rule that anything pre-Xavier was generally off limits. Nonetheless, he's curious now, and he makes a mental note to ask Alex about it later before going in search of more coffee. Sean shuffles into the kitchen and frowns at the empty coffee tin on the counter. Wasn't it half full earlier?

“Oh.” His gaze settles on the empty mugs in the sink, a testament to just how much caffeine he'd consumed since that morning, and he adds his latest cup to the pile before turning back to the door. 

“Jesus!” Sean nearly jumps out of his skin at the sight of Charles standing there in his pajamas, sallow and almost ghostlike under the dim hallway lights. “You almost gave a me a heart attack, Professor.” 

Charles meets his eyes and takes one, two, three steps forward before his legs give out. Sean rushes to his side and helps him to a nearby chair, which the other man gratefully slumps into. They sit in silence, Sean uncertain what to say, if anything, and Charles is just staring into space. 

“Shouldn't you be, you know, in bed?” Sean asks finally. 

Charles blinks and stares at him. “Why?” 

_Because you had a psychotic breakdown and now you're just freaking me out._ “Everyone's worried about you.”

Charles continues to stare, and then gives a small, noncommittal shrug. “Oh.” 

“Raven just went upstairs to check on you,” Sean adds. 

“Oh,” Charles says again. 

Sean isn't sure what else to say. He fidgets with the coffee can on the counter, studiously ignoring Charles' piercing gaze. “Um. Do you want something to eat? Or drink? We're out of coffee,” he adds, holding up the empty can for emphasis. 

Charles seems to think hard for a moment before responding. “Where's Erik?” 

“He's gone for help, I think. For you.” 

“Oh.” He pauses, lost in thought again, before asking, “is there tea?” 

“Yeah, I'll make you some.” 

Charles nods, apparently satisfied, while Sean retrieves the kettle from under the sink. They remain silent until the water boils, Sean aimlessly pacing the room while Charles seems to become increasingly fascinated with his hands.

Sean is just setting the cup of early grey on the table for Charles when Raven bursts into the room, and he nearly drops it in surprise. Charles remains motionless; he doesn't seem to have registered her presence at all even when she practically shouts his name and runs over to him. 

“I've been looking all over for you, Charles!” she exclaims breathlessly. “I thought...I don't know what I thought. How did you even get here?” 

Charles ignores her and uses both hands to clasp the hot mug and bring it to his lips. His gaze is unfocused again, and it occurs to Sean that he might just be doing it deliberately. 

“He's fine, Raven. Look, all he wanted was some tea,” Sean says, leaning his elbows on the counter. “What's the big deal?” 

“The big deal is that he was convulsing and barely conscious half an hour ago!” Raven retorts. “He shouldn't even be able to walk right now!” 

“Then shouldn't you be happy that he's managed to get this far?” 

“Raven.” 

She turns to look at Charles, who is trembling in the chair. Sean reaches over the counter and gently takes the mug from his hands before it spills. 

“You should come back to bed, Charles,” she says. “You're not--” 

“Where's Erik?” he interrupts. 

Raven seems uncomfortable with the question, crossing and uncrossing her arms twice before she speaks again. “He...he went to find someone that can help you.” 

“Oh.” The trembling subsides, and he picks up the mug to take another sip. 

Raven sighs, obviously relieved. “I was worried about you, Charles. I still am.” 

Charles says nothing. His grip on the mug tightens until his knuckles whiten and then, without warning, he lets it slip from his hands. Raven catches it just in time, cursing as still hot tea sloshes onto her fingers and she places it on the counter, well out of Charles' reach. 

“You were saying about him being fine?” she glares at Sean, who shrugs in response.

“I think he's a lot more aware than you give him credit for.” He meets Charles' eyes as he speaks. “Like a two-way mirror. He can see out, but we can't see in.” 

A ghost of a smile passes across Charles' face. Raven doesn't catch it, too distracted trying to wipe the tea off her hands with a dish towel, but it's enough for Sean to know that he's right. 

“Raven?” Charles' voice is barely above a whisper. “Where's Erik?” 

~~~ 

Charles isn't sure how he got back upstairs. One minute he's in the kitchen, sipping tea and starting to think that maybe, just maybe he can do this, that maybe he can pretend he isn't screaming inside, and the next he's back in bed, tucked in like a toddler that got loose from his crib. He's almost certain this was Raven's doing, speaking but not really saying anything, nothing that he cares to put any effort into understanding, anyway. He's vaguely aware of Sean sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed, and of Raven anxiously pacing the room beside him, but mostly he's aware of who isn't there. Charles has asked where Erik went, at least he thinks he has, but he can't remember the answer. All that matters is he isn't here. His thoughts are blurred, scattered, and just when he thinks he's got a hold one one it disappears as if it had never existed. He can catch snippets and piece them together if he concentrates, but it hurts, _oh it hurts make it stop make it end_ and besides he's perfectly content watching the remnants of his mind slip away. 

He tries calling to Erik, like he did before, but there's something in the way. It's the coin, he thinks, it's always the coin, and sure enough there it is in his mind's eye, wedging itself a little deeper every time he tries to get out. Charles lets out a quiet moan and curls into a ball under the blankets, torn between his desire to find Erik and the need to make the pain stop. The coin ultimately wins the battle, as it inevitably has for the past who knows how long, and he gratefully slips into what he hopes will be a dreamless sleep.

~~~

Erik is tired. He's tired of fighting, and tired of listening to Emma's sickly sweet voice asking why she would ever help the men who handed her over to the CIA and killed her beloved Black King, whatever that meant. 

“It _means_ he was the head of our organization here, and extremely difficult to replace,” Emma explains, exasperated. “As White Queen I was his right hand and am in charge of the Hellfire Club until we find someone to take up his mantle.” 

_Chess analogies. Of course._

“I have responsibilities, sugar,” she continues. “Your little friend's mental health, or lack thereof, is not one of them. And, by the way, I find your wearing that helmet in my presence extremely distasteful.” 

Erik can feel the rage boiling inside of him, but he stifles it and decides to try a different tactic. “Perhaps I can give you something in return.” 

Emma laughs softly. “What could I possibly want from you?” 

“There must be something,” he presses. “Something you want just as much as I want Charles.” 

“No one wants anything as much as you want Charles, honey. Oh, don't act so surprised,” she adds with a smirk. “Anyone with half a brain could figure it out from the way you look at each other.” 

Erik frowns. “Are you going to help me or not?” 

“I already said no. Go home to your comatose boyfriend.” Emma stands and moves to open the heavy velvet curtains that separate them from the rest of the club. 

“Wait.” Erik squeezes his eyes shut, opens them again. He thinks of Charles, all fire gone from his eyes as he clutches helplessly at the sheets, his only focus the coin that Erik forced through Shaw's skull, through Charles' skull. He remembers the indescribable pain that lanced through his mind as Charles begged for him to fix it, to fix him, and it makes what he's about to say that much easier. “You said...you said you need someone to replace Shaw.” 

Emma smiles knowingly before slipping on a mask of impassivity as she faces Erik once more. “I did indeed.” 

He takes a deep breath and has to fight to keep his voice neutral. “He always wanted me to follow in his footsteps. Perhaps it's time I took on the role I was made for.” 

“Erik Lehnsherr, the once and future king,” Emma comments wryly. “It does have a nice ring to it. But would you really be willing to give everything up and succeed Shaw as the Black King?” 

Erik swallows hard. “Yes. But only after you--” 

“Yes, yes, I know,” Emma waves him off. “After I save your precious Charles.” 

“Do we have a deal, then?” 

Emma smiles, and this time she doesn't bother to hide it. “Welcome to the Hellfire Club, Erik.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed I've been busy writing chapters for my other fics, and this one kind of got put on the back burner. Thanks to everyone who's actually still reading this!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look I added a chapter! Apologies to anyone who's actually still reading this and has been waiting for ages and ages for an update >.< I haven't really been in a mood to write lately, but hopefully that is changing!

Erik and Emma arrive at the mansion late in the evening, and the sun has almost disappeared behind a grove of trees at the edge of the property. Erik ignores the orange and pink rays glinting off a certain satellite in his peripheral vision and gazes up at the house instead, wondering idly if this will be his last chance to do so. He’s come to think of it as his home over the past couple of months, the first one he’s known since his mother was killed, and he knows he’ll miss it just as much. 

“Well, come on then,” Emma taps her foot impatiently beside him. “I haven’t got all day, and neither, I’m sure, does Charles.” 

Raven opens the door before they reach it and gapes at Emma. “Wow. I really didn’t think she would come.” 

“We came to an arrangement,” Erik says, approaching the door. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“It doesn’t matter right now. Is Charles awake?” 

“Yeah. He’s been…different since you left.” 

Erik frowns, but follows her inside with Emma. Emma moves to take off her white peacoat, but Erik holds up a hand. “Don’t bother. You won’t be staying long.” She glares at him, but rebuttons her coat as they walk. 

“He’s not up there,” she remarks as Raven heads for the stairs. Emma points at a half open door in the other direction. “It seems he’s been wandering.” 

“What do you mean, wandering?” Erik glares at Raven. “What happened while I was gone?” 

“Erik.” Charles materializes in the doorway, barefoot and glassy-eyed. He is wearing the same blue striped pajamas that Erik last saw him in. 

Emma narrows her eyes, prodding gently at Charles’ mind, but Erik ignores her. “Charles,” he whispers. Then, more audibly, “You’re out of bed.” 

“I’m out of bed,” Charles repeats slowly. 

“Erik, he’s not all there,” Raven murmurs. 

“So it would seem,” Emma says, still focusing on Charles. “He’s trapped himself in his mind, and he wants out.” 

“Can you get me in?” Erik demands. He takes a few steps towards Charles and gently touches his arm. Charles doesn’t seem to register the contact. 

“That’s the easy part,” Emma replies. “The hard part will be finding your way out. His mind is so fragmented, like a thousand hairline cracks in a mirror.” 

“Charles,” Erik says gently. “Emma’s going to bring me inside your mind, so I can move the coin just like you wanted.” 

Charles blinks and focuses on Erik’s face, then reaches up to touch the edges of the helmet. “Take this off. I can’t see you.” 

“He’s right, sugar,” Emma says. “We won’t get anywhere if you’re still wearing that helmet.” 

Erik takes Charles' hands in his own. “I'll take it of in a minute, I promise. Le's get you back to bed first.” 

Charles nods slowly and allows himself to be led up the stairs and back to his room. In a few moments Charles is tucked back into bed, and Emma and Erik are seated next to him while Raven paces anxiously. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I don't know how I feel about her getting inside Charles' head.” 

“This was your idea,” Erik reminds her as he removes his helmet and sets it on the end table beside him. 

“Not to mention, we've never actually met,” Emma tells her coolly. “You have no idea what I'm capable of.” 

“I know who you worked with. That's more than enough for me,” Raven says. 

“And do you measure yourself by Charles' thoughts and actions?” Emma retorts. When Raven looks away, Emma adds, “No, I didn't think so. Now, are we ready to do this? I have other places to be.” 

Erik takes Emma's proffered hand and, as she closes her eyes, he does the same. Within seconds he finds himself in a clean white space, void and featureless. 

“What is this?” he demands. 

“Calm yourself, sugar. This is one of Charles' defense mechanisms.” She looks around, searching, then chooses a direction seemingly at random and starts walking. “This way.” 

They walk for what seems like hours, with nothing to mark the passage of space and time, until Erik spots a tiny dark blob in the distance. “There, do you see?” 

Emma nods. “It looks like his house.” 

Sure enough, the blob becomes the familiar outline of the Xavier Estate, perfectly detailed in every way, but for one major difference. There are tiny fissures in the stones, cracks in the windows, dead ivy leaves falling from the outer walls. The steps crumble under Erik's feet as he approaches the door. 

“Should I knock?” Erik asks. 

As though in response, the door swings open, and Erik glances only briefly at Emma before entering. The door swings shut as soon as he's inside, preventing Emma from joining him. Erik observes his surroundings, the interior of the mansion immaculate as always, with no evidence to betray its crumbling exterior. Charles is nowhere to be seen. 

“Charles?” Erik calls, moving towards the main stairway. “Charles, it's me. You asked me to come, remember?” 

“I remember everything.” 

Erik spins around and finds Charles standing directly before him, mere inches between them. Charles is deathly pale, his skin almost translucent in the glow of the lamp light. He's wearing a navy sweater over a lighter blue button down with khakis rather than the pyjamas his physical self is sporting, but his feet remain bare, Erik notices. 

“You were going to leave me,” Charles is saying. “I saw it, just before you put that infernal helmet on. You were going to kill him and you were going to leave me.” 

“I want you by my side,” Erik answers. “I would have asked you to join me.” 

“And you think I would have come? You think I would have dropped everything I believe in to go on some sort of mutant crusade with you?” 

“...No, not really,” Erik admits. “But none of that matters right now. We need to--”

“Oh, I think it does matter,” Charles interrupts. He's shaking now, and he's slurring when he speaks. “You cared more about your revenge than anything else and now...and now...” he drops to his knees, and Erik kneels in front of him. 

“I know,” Erik whispers. “I know this is all my fault and I'm sorry, I really am. I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to lose you.” 

“Then help me,” Charles reaches up to touch Erik's cheek. '”Count too three, and move the coin one more time.” 

Their eyes meet only for a moment, and then Erik nods. “This is going to hurt.” 

“I'm ready.” 

Erik raises his hand level with Charles' forehead. “One.” 

He can feel the coin moving, and for a moment he almost believes it's real metal. 

“Two.” 

Charles scrunches his eyes shut and wraps his arms around himself.

“Three.” 

Charles screams as the coin slides free, straight from the centre of his forehead, marred with bloodstains, and drops into Erik's hand. The wound heals almost instantly, and colour starts to return to Charles' cheeks. Erik gathers him into his arms, murmuring apologies and soothing words until Charles pushes away, eyes downcast. 

“Thank you.” 

“I don't deserve your thanks.” 

Charles moves into a cross-legged position on the wooden floor. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, concentrating. “It's time for you to leave.” 

Erik starts to stand up, but Charles grabs his arm. “Not you. Her. You, on the other hand, aren't going anywhere.” 

~

Emma opens her eyes and looks around. She's back in the bedroom, having been forcibly shunted from Charles' head, but Erik didn't come with her. Its seems that he and Charles have some unfinished business. 

“What happened? Why are you back?” Raven asks. She's been pacing the room like a cat, back and forth on the opposite side of Charles' bed. 

“Charles kicked me out,” Emma answers, folding her arms across her chest. “He's back in control, and he wants some private time with Erik.” 

“Of course he does.” 

“Out of curiosity, what exactly happened between them?” 

Raven sighs. “It's a long story.” 

Emma gestures at Erik and Charles, both still unconscious. “I've got time.” When Raven remains silent, she adds, “Please. It's not as if I'm going to use their relationship issues against you later. They're perfectly capable of falling apart on their own.” 

Again, Raven hesitates, but walks around to sit on the edge of the bed across from Emma. 

“I blame Charles' idealism. He really thought he could change Erik's mind.” 

“About?” 

Raven sighs heavily. “Killing Shaw.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Charles is healing, it's time that Erik learned to do the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise I actually finished it! Abandoned work was not really abandoned xD XD Seriously though so sorry for dragging a five chapter fic out this long, if I were you I'd be so frustrated right now. So thanks to anyone who might still be reading this, you are patient and wonderful and I don't deserve you <3

Time in Charles' mind operates differently, Erik knows. He's been in here for what feels like days, but Charles has informed him that only about an hour has passed in the physical world. Without the confines of time, Erik has reset the chess board between them countless times after winning, losing, throwing the entire game into the fireplace, only to have it reappear on the table between himself and Charles. He's stood and paced the room, impatient, furious, claustrophobic, not understanding why Charles continues to sit there calmly, sipping tea and moving pieces across the board.

“What do you want from me, Charles?” Erik asks, calm and composed after a recent outburst. He moves his rook, captures Charles' pawn.

Charles moves his knight in return, takes Erik's rook. “I want you to make a decision. One that's not based on pain and anger, but on what you truly want.”

“I told you, I have to go with Emma.”

“No, you don't. That's the easy way out.” Charles follows the movement of Erik's hand as he selects a pawn and moves it forward. “What do you want?”

“No one ever asks me that.”

“I'm asking.”

Erik exhales as Charles puts his king into check. Erik swiftly moves his king out of the trap, only for Charles to back him into checkmate. The board automatically resets, and Erik rubs his face with his hands. “I want to stop playing this game. I want you to let me out of your head. I want to protect mutantkind and be the leader they deserve, the leader they need as the world changes and moves against them. And don't look at me like that, you've seen firsthand that humans are governed by fear. Fear for what they don't understand, fear for anyone or anything different and new.”

“We want the same thing, my friend,” Charles says quietly.

“Then come with me. Work with me.”

“Is that what you want?”

Erik hesitates. “I...no.”

Charles moves to speak, but Erik interrupts. “I don't want you to join the Hellfire Club. You're too good for that, Charles. You're too good for all of this. You need to stay here, follow your dream, and open the school you've been telling me about. A safe haven for mutants is a brilliant idea, especially at such a young and impressionable age when their powers first begin to manifest.”

“Then stay.”

“I can't,” Erik repeats through gritted teeth.

Charles sighs. “And we've come full circle.”

“Us fighting each other, it's what they want,” Erik's voice is pleading, desperate. “Don't make this the end of us.”

“I've opened my doors to you, Erik. I gave you everything I had. I gave you my heart and my hope and you tossed it away like it meant nothing because you cared more about your revenge than me!” Charles is shaking, but only slightly. He takes a deep breath and hides his expression behind the rim of his teacup. “Stay, or go. Make your choice.”

Erik doesn't know what to tell him. He wants to stay, wants to drop his entire crusade and stay with Charles for the rest of their days, raising mutant children to become better than the world around them, sharing meals and chess games and a bed and waking up every morning with Charles safely ensconced in his arms. He wants to protect him, and maybe to do that he needs to leave. He needs to follow the path he chose back on the beach and create a world that Charles' students will be able to live in and call their own. He's not a teacher, or a healer, like Charles. There's only one thing he's ever been good at.

“I know what I have to do.”

 

~

 

Erik bolts up in his chair, eyes, roving frantically about the room. Emma and Raven have stopped mid conversation, surprised by Erik's sudden recovery.

“Welcome back, sugar,” Emma drawls. “We were just talking about you.”

Erik ignores her and turns his attention to Charles. Charles, who is sitting up slowly, focusing his bleary gaze on Erik, taking in Raven and Emma gathered at his bedside.

“Charles!” Raven is the first to speak, taking his hand in hers. “Are you awake? I mean, are you...”

“I am myself again, Raven,” Charles reassures her. “Thank you for taking care of me.” He offers her a ghost of a smile, then meets Emma's icy gaze and gives her a curt nod. Emma nods back, almost imperceptibly. He meets Erik's eyes last, calm and questioning. “Well?”

Erik can't bear the disconnect in Charles' eyes, as though he's already resigned to Erik's departure. Erik feels as if he's been ripped in two. Charles has his heart, but Emma has his fate and his promise. And Erik is a man of his word.

“Emma--”

“Erik.” Emma cuts him off. “I'm reneging on our deal.”

Erik is stunned. “What? Why?”

Emma raises an eyebrow at him. “I thought you'd be happy to stay by your boyfriend's side. That is what you want, after all.”

“I gave you my word.”

“And I'm giving it back,” Emma replies, standing up “I have something better now.”

Erik frowns, confused, glancing beside him as Charles gives a little gasp of understanding “And what's that?”

“Shaw,” Charles whispers, his hand tightening around his sister's. “You have Shaw.”

Raven pulls away from him and moves to stand beside Emma, her body shifting into the familiar semblance of one Sebastian Shaw. She holds that form for a beat, then shifts back into her own, blue scaled skin. “Charles, Emma and I have been talking while you were...incapacitated, and we realized something. We've let men run our lives for far too long. And don't look at me like that Charles, you can't deny you've been trying to control me since you met me.” She sighs. “I've learned a lot about myself these past few weeks. Mostly that what we have isn't working. So you can keep Erik, if he wants you to, but I can't stay here anymore.”

Erik can't help but respect Raven's decision. She's done what Erik couldn't – she chose her own path, regardless of the consequences.

Charles nods slowly, and for the first time Erik notices how tired he looks. He's losing hope, losing the spark that makes Charles, well, _Charles_. Erik can't let that happen. Maybe their methods don't exactly align, but Erik knows one thing for certain: the world needs a man like Charles Xavier. And so, when Charles turns his attention to Erik, asking Erik if he's planning on leaving him as well, Erik stands, leans over the bed to stroke his thumbs over Charles' cheekbones and kisses him, soft and chaste and not caring that Raven and Emma are watching.

“My place is here,” Erik murmurs against Charles' mouth. “by your side, if you'll have me.”

“Oh, Erik,” Charles angles himself up to wrap his arms around Erik's neck. “Of course I will.”

Emma rolls her eyes behind Erik's back. “Yes, yes, I now pronounce you husband and husband. Come along, Raven. Public displays of affection disgust me.”

Raven casts one more long, meaningful look at her brother over Erik's shoulder. “Good bye, Charles.”

Charles grips Erik tighter, as though he's still afraid of losing them both. “You'll always have a home here, Raven. If you want it.”

“I know.”

 

~

 

It's only for a few weeks, Erik tells himself. Just until Charles gets back on his feet and opens the school he's dreamed of. But as the seasons change and piles of crisp, multicoloured fall leaves become banks of powdery, pure white snow in the fields beyond the mansion, Erik grows comfortable. He likes waking up every morning with Charles draped across him, pulling the duvet in front of his face against the early morning rays of sunlight. He likes handing Charles a freshly brewed tea while they discuss the day's plans, whether it's more work on Cerebro, the political semantics of opening a school, or exercises with Alex, Sean and Hank, to continually flex and challenge their mutations.

What he loves most of all is the weeks before the school is set to open, standing behind Charles in the massive round room that is Cerebro while a sprawling map of the world is projected from Charles' mind onto the arcing walls.

“The white dots,” Charles is explaining to him, “are the humans. And these--” the map changes from white to red, thousands on thousands of bright, pinpricks of lights blazing around them. “are the mutants.”

Erik is speechless. He stares at the map in awe, watching all of the lights shine across America and beyond.

“You see, Erik?” Charles is smiling broadly as he speaks. “We're not as alone as you think.”

“It's...it's beautiful,” Erik manages. “How will you decide who to bring in?”

“We're looking for those whose mutations have manifested recently, or are just beginning to reveal themselves. Children, teens who need a safe space to learn and be accepted. This is a school, after all.”

“We?” Erik's bath catches in his throat. He wasn't going to stay once the school opened, he remembers, this isn't how it was supposed to go--

The map fades away and Charles removes the helmet before standing and sliding his arms around Erik's waist. “Both of us. Together. Side by side, like you wanted. Right?”

Erik takes a shallow, shuddering breath. “I...”

Charles' brow furrows with concern. “Are you having second thoughts, darling?” He nudges gently against Erik's mind, and Erik lets him in without hesitation, just as he has for the past few months, but Charles is always so gentle, always asking for permission first.

_How do I keep this how do I keep you I have to leave but I want to stay need to stay need you--_

Charles beings with him a wave of calming energy, slowing Erik's chaotic thoughts and giving him space to breathe again. _Calm your mind, my love. What do you want?_

“I want you,” Erik says aloud. “But I can't...I wasn't going to do this.”

Charles nods sagely. He knows exactly what Erik means, can see his flight response working into overdrive as he struggles to repress it. “Let's look at this from a different perspective. Will you stay until tomorrow?”

“Yes.” Erik answers immediately.

“Will you stay until the end of the week?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, then.” Charles leans up on his toes to press a kiss to Erik's dry, chapped lips. “You've promised me another six days. Let's use them wisely.”

Erik relaxes in Charles' embrace, burying his face in Charles' chestnut hair, mussed and standing on end from wearing Cerebro's helmet. “I want to promise you more than that.”

“Don't do it unless you mean it.”

“I love you.”

“And I love you, Erik.”

 


End file.
